


Blaise Zabini and the Magic Mushroom

by kalisgirl



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Crack, Drugs, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-08-16
Updated: 2004-08-16
Packaged: 2017-10-26 15:21:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/284810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kalisgirl/pseuds/kalisgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blaise gets bored while visiting Malfoy Manor and decides to have some Mugglestyle fun. A Hogwarts era AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blaise Zabini and the Magic Mushroom

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Most of the characters and ideas belong to JKRowling, the WB and other people. The rest of the the folk, and the naughty stuff they do is all mine. I should feel shame.
> 
> Warning for some naughty behaviour in case the title didn't tip you off. Written in response to a challenge. I've lost the link to the challenge, but the points I remember are
> 
> \- Blaise and Draco (not necessarily as a couple)
> 
> \- A "rave" party
> 
> \- Heavy mention/involvement of Death Eaters
> 
> \- Peircings/Tattoos – some one must have one/receive one
> 
> \- Use of drugs and alcohol
> 
> \- Takes place at Malfoy Manor
> 
> I've taken some of these broadly, but here's my response to the challenge.

"Bored now. Bored, bored, bored, bored, bored now."

"Shut up, Zabini. Go away and stop whining."

Blaise glared across the room at his schoolmate. It wasn't even an hour after dinner and he was about to lose his mind from the sheer dullness of life in Malfoy Manor. It was constantly chilly, there was nothing to read, no music to listen to, and no one interesting to talk to. The place had all the charm of... well, a large, bleak, cold, mostly empty house owned by people with no imagination. Shouldn't have surprised him the least.

He knew that he should have turned down Malfoy's invitation to spend the weekend at the house. It had been put to him as a gathering of all the interesting – for which read rich, powerful, Muggle hating – students in their House. There were several dozen Slytherins currently wandering around the Manor, and Blaise had yet to see signs of anyone worth spending time with. As a result, he had hidden himself away from the masses in the warmest room in the house. At least with the large fireplaces in the music room, there was a chance feeling might return to his toes. Otherwise frostbite was sure to cause them to drop off. If he didn't die of boredom first.

Malfoy sat on a bench in front of one of the two grand pianos in the room. He was picking out some tune with his right hand. After a minute or so, his left hand crept up and joined in with the chorded harmonies. Soon, having obviously forgotten his audience, he was playing for all he was worth, his whole body swaying, his fingers flying over the keyboard as he produced some of the most beautiful music Blaise had ever heard. Eventually, the music rose to a final crescendo and dropped to silence. Malfoy sat immobile for a moment, eyes closed, then let out a great sigh and turned from the instrument.

"Zabini! What the fuck are you doing here?"

"Being less bored," Blaise drawled, smiling at Malfoy's obvious embarrassment at being found out. The blond tried valiantly to hide his shame behind anger, but after knowing him for six years, Blaise knew embarrassment when he saw it.

"That was pretty decent stuff," he said once he'd enjoyed Malfoy's squirming for long enough. "What was it?"

"Beethoven. Piano Sonata number ten."

"Beethoven? The _Muggle_?" Blaise asked, feigning shock. "What are you doing playing Muggle music?"

"Shut up. Just shut up. And don't you tell anyone about this. I'll Cruciatus you otherwise."

"Wasn't planning on telling, swear," Blaise said with a small smile at Draco's obvious relief. "Just appreciating a fellow music lover. So now, the question is, what sort of thing can we do to make this weekend more interesting that will also satisfy our need for decent music. It's not as if any of the crap coming over the WWN is worth listing to."

"Merlin, no," Draco groaned. "It's sick-making. That warbling Celestina woman, or those horrible Weird Sister people. Mother gave me a clock that turned on the Wireless every morning to wake me up. First day, it went off and I blasted it so utterly that there wasn't a piece larger than a sickle left. Horrible experience."

"Truly. But now that I know you have some experience with the world of decent music," Blaise began, "even if it is made by Muggles..."

"It's so wrong, isn't it?" Draco broke in. "How can those useless lumps of trash have so much more skill for music than we do? It's just bizarre."

"Well, I suppose they have to have something. Besides, the world of Muggle music is not all things wonderful. Have you ever encountered the 'boy band'?"

"Not to my knowledge. What is it?"

"I'll spare you for the moment, but just be warned that if anyone ever mentions the words 'Take That' or 'Robbie Williams,' Stupefy them and run."

"Noted."

"But as I was saying, I wanted to make a small suggestion regarding the activities planned for this weekend. I know that you like music, decent music with a bit of melody and lots of movement. Might I suggest we procure a little musical entertainment to pass the hours?"

"What the hell are you talking about, Zabini? I swear, sometimes you talk like a bloody character in a novel."

"A party, Malfoy, a party with some music, some dancing, maybe some entertaining beverages and snacks? Are you following me?"

"I think so. But how are we going to do that on a night's notice? I don't even know anyone with a Wireless that could fill the ballroom, and I don't know any good musical groups."

"Why don't you leave that to me. Just have your house elves rustle us up some decent food and drink, and give me twenty-four hours. Then you'll have a party to be proud of."

Draco nodded, considering. Eventually he stood and made his way to the door.

"Done. I'll get them to open the ballroom for you and we'll raid Father's wine cellar. And his beer cellar. And the whiskey cellar. And the vodka cellar. And the gin cellar..."

His voice trailed off as he left the room. Blaise shook his head at the ridiculousness of Malfoy's life and then pulled a small silver object from his pocket. Putting his thumbnail to a seam on the side, he flipped it open.

"Gervaise," he said clearly, then smiled as the small screen lit up. How wizards got along with out some of the better Muggle technology he'd never know. It wasn't as if there were fireplaces everywhere – mobile phones made a whole lot more sense than Floo. Maybe once Malfoy outgrew his whole Muggle-baiting phase, a sure thing now that his idiot of a father was not-so-slowly going mad in Azkaban, Blaise would thoroughly introduce him to the better side of Muggle culture. He'd start slowly with music and a few specialized pharmaceuticals and then move on to mobiles, DVDs and strip clubs.

Smiling, Blaise listened to his friends answer phone message and then spoke.

"Ger, Blaise here. I know I said I couldn't host the party this weekend, but that's changed. Same idea, different place. I've got a big hall and free booze, you just bring some sound, some lights and some happy-happy joy-joys. Call me and I'll give you directions. Oh, and you'll need to bring a genny."

* * *

The next afternoon, the Manor was abuzz with speculation. Just after one o'clock, the gates had opened to allow three large vans to drive up to the house. Most of the teenagers had only seen motorized vehicles in textbook photographs or during brief escapes from Diagon Alley into London proper. The windows were full of curious faces watching as the trucks were opened and large crates were rolled down ramps by people who were obviously not magic-folk.

Malfoy found Blaise at the doors to the grand ballroom, directing traffic.

"What on earth are the Muggles doing in my house?" he nearly shouted. "My father will kill me if he finds out."

"If you father manages to form a coherent thought in that hell-hole where he's living, I doubt it would have anything to do with you," Blaise answered calmly. "Besides, who'd tell him? No one here's going to admit they were associating with Muggles. And no one in their right mind would accuse the Malfoy family of having Muggles on the property. Besides, if all goes well, pretty soon they'll be having too much fun to care."

"You'd better be right, or I'll do better than the Cruciatus. You'll never forget it."

"Sure, Malfoy, whatever you say. Just calm down and go deal with your guests. We'll be set up by about nine. Oh, and can you arrange to have lots of tea pots and hot water ready for us?"

"Why?"

"You'll see."

With that mysterious statement, Blaise turned on his heel and left the hall. He was very much looking forward to giving these Death Eater wanna-be's a night that they wouldn't forget. All courtesy of Muggle culture. It would be sweet revenge for having to sit through hour upon hour of pro-You-Know-Who ranting in the Slytherin common room.

* * *

After explaining to the fellows setting up the gear that they would have to use the generator that Ger had kindly provided as the house was lacking a good enough electrical system – rather, _any_ electrical system, he though with a smirk – Blaise made his way to the platform that had been set up at one end of the ballroom.

"Hey Blaise," said the blond man behind the turntables.

"Weirdo place you've found here. I think I saw a kid wandering around in a big cape earlier. Is this a goth scene? Because I didn't really bring that kind of stuff."

"Nah, no worries Ger, they aren't goths, just seriously counter-culture. I'm sure they'll go for whatever you play. Free rein. Although I want to hear that new Orbital single at some point tonight, so make sure that's worked in somehow."

"Gotcha, mate. I'll have it for you some time after the witching hour."

Blaise snorted in amusement. It never failed to make him laugh, the stuff Muggles could say to his face, never realizing what he truly was.

"Speaking of the witching hour," he said. "Did you manage to get hold of anything to make the night extra special?"

"Oh yeah, I got some basic gear. I wasn't sure what this crowd was going to be, so I stuck with the happy stuff."

Ger reached down into one the crates on the table and pulled out three large plastic baggies.

"Here's some quality mushrooms. I'd say they're pretty decent, but I haven't tried a cuppa yet."

"Great stuff. I'll get you the money in a moment. And what about entertainment? We got anyone interesting dropping by?"

"Yeah, think so. Samantha said she'd bring some of her fire-dancing crew. And I know that Janie's planning on showing. She'll do henna tats and body painting. I don't think that Eddie and the trannies can show this time, but if your bloke in the cape has any friends, we won't want for weird."

"Is Janie going to bring any of her other gear?"

"Probably. Why, you looking for another bit of décor?"

"I've been thinking about it. And I think that some of my friends here might find the idea of body piercing quite... interesting."

"We shall see, we shall see," Ger said absently, his head already buried in a crate of LPs.

* * *

At dinner, Blaise and Malfoy announced that the special entertainment for the evening would begin around nine and that people were encouraged to wear lightweight clothes, not their fancy robes. Blaise set the example by showing up for the meal in cotton drawstring pants and a tee-shirt that was so thin his several tattoos showed through.

By the time nine-o'clock rolled around, most of the Slytherins had already been helping themselves to the contents of Malfoy Manor's various cellars. Blaise laughed as he watched a seriously tipsy Vincent Crabbe attempting to chat up a rather more sober Millicent Bulstrode. After a few minutes of Crabbe's pawing attempts at intimacy, Millicent finally punched the boy in the gut and walked away. It was a beautiful moment.

Soon, the sound of a loud pounding emanated from the ballroom. A few curious people made their way in, followed by larger and larger groups. Once most of the students were in the ballroom, Blaise made his way to the DJ platform and picked up a microphone. He knew that he could just use a Sonorus charm, but that would freak Ger and his boys right out, assuming they were sober enough to notice.

"Well, fellow Slytherins. I would like to welcome you to your first proper house party. It will be a new experience for most of you, so a few notes. If you go to the buffet tables, you will find several tea pots. These hold a special tea that we have made for the occasion. Be moderate, a single cuppa will do nicely. Now, you'll see the lovely Sam, over there, with her friends. Watch but don't touch. I don't want anyone catching fire. And in this corner, Janie is here to make you feel pretty - a little extra decoration for your amusement. And, finally, the man who will make this evening truly magic - I present to you DJ Ger Riggs."

As Blaise climbed down, the bass beat came in heavy and loud. Most of the Slytherins simply stared around themselves, looking at the speaker stacks and the strange black contraptions that were splashing moving beams of light all around the room. As an insistent treble melody began to sneak in over the bass line, many began to shift and sway. It only took Ger one track to have the entire room jumping and dancing to the insistent beats he was spinning.

Blaise smiled. It was a perfect set-up. A lot of these kids were going to go home to their bigoted parents with their idea of Muggles seriously shifted. And with fairly large hangovers.

* * *

A few hours later, Malfoy corned Blaise by the tattoo set-up.

"This isn't half bad," he conceded. "I suppose I'm alright with having these Muggles here, just this once. What's in that tea, anyway? I really like it. Makes me feel... y'know, up, and... uh, happy." His face was twisted as he tried to describe his feelings. Apparently happy wasn't a normal state for Draco.

Blaise hid his smile by turning to Janie.

"Janie-luv, I'd like you to meet a school chum of mine. Janie Warburton, Draco Malfoy. Draco, Janie."

Janie stuck her hand out, and Malfoy stared blankly at it for a second. Then, with a twitch of his head, he took the hand and shook it. Blaise grinned to see that Malfoy was looking intently at the black haired girl as she turned back to her table of tools.

"Is she a, um, a you-know-what?" Malfoy hissed to Blaise.

"Yes, Malfoy, she is. And a particularly lovely one, don't you think?" Blaise couldn't help himself. "You know, they don't have horns or scales or anything obvious like that."

"Shut up, Zabini." Malfoy kept staring as the girl swept her hair over her shoulder so she could see the area of Pansy's back where she worked. A complex design of a snake twining around a bird of prey – an eagle, Blaise thought – covered most of Pansy's right shoulder-blade.

"So this will last for at least a week, right?" Pansy was asking the tattoo artist. "It's just, I want my boyfriend to see it."

"Don't worry, henna lasts quite a while. But it will go away, so it doesn't worry parents quite so much."

"Great," the blond girl smiled. "So what are all those things for?" She gestured to a collection of metal posts, rings, and balls in small bags.

"Those are the jewelry for my piercing work. They're all sealed up to keep them clean and sterile. I also have an auto-clave for my needles, though I didn't bring it tonight. I have five needles, so I'm stopping after five piercings."

"What kind of piercing needs something like that in it?" Malfoy asked, looking a little revolted as he fingered his earlobe.

"Something like this," Blaise broke in, lifting the hem of his tee-shirt. On his chest glinted a small metal ring hanging from his left nipple. Malfoy and Pansy both gasped in shock.

"You let her stick a needle... there?" Malfoy finally asked.

"Yep. And I'm going to let her stick another one in my other nipple tonight. Want to watch?"

Malfoy's face drained of blood so completely that he looked transparent. He began to take small steps backwards

"I don't think so. I'll just go get another cup of tea. Nice to meet you Janie." He had made it to the edge of the dancing crowd when he turned and practically sprinted in the direction of the door.

"That wasn't nice, Blaise," Janie chastised, though her smile said something different.

"Can I help it if the boy's got no stomach for pain?"

Pansy snorted, then froze. "Is it okay?" she asked, trying to look over her shoulder. "I didn't mess it up?" When Janie assured her the tattoo was fine, Pansy continued.

"Well, we always knew Draco was all talk. All of his guff about his dad and the You-Know-Who folks. As if Draco could ever have the stones to do any of that stuff. He's as much of a wanna-be as the rest of these twits."

"And you're the real thing, Panse?" Blaise asked coolly, masking his interest in her answer.

"Not a bit. I think it's all crap. But it's safer to make like you agree rather than get personal attention from Draco and his goons. Don't tell me you're not going just through the motions to avoid harassment."

By her expression, she knew the answer already. Blaise smiled down at her and then turned to look at the hall – his gift from the Muggle world to the Wizarding one.

"True enough, I have a little too much fondness for the Muggle lifestyle to have any truck with Draco's fanaticism. Just trying to take a reading of other people's opinions."

Janie tapped Pansy on the shoulder then held up a pair of mirrors so the blond girl could admire the artwork on her back. After ooh-ing and ah-ing appropriately, Pansy hitched her top back on, giving Blaise an enjoyable view of her assets, and turned to the tall boy.

"Well, if you want my opinion, I think that most people in this room would agree with you and me, rather than Draco. Most of the big De... Dee Ees," she stuttered, looking at Janie, who was cleaning her equipment, "didn't have kids or sent their kids out of the country. As for the rest, not too many of these kids are willing to put it on the line for You-Know-Who. And they might hate Muggles, but they don't want them dead."

"Yeah, ours is not a generation for bloodlust," Blaise agreed with a smile, his eyes on the blissed out crowd. "Maybe someday our parents will grow up."

Bowing slightly, he offered his arms to the girls. With Janie on one side and Pansy on the other, Blaise made his way into the dancers. The three began to move with the insistent beat of the Orbital track he had specifically requested. For a few minutes, Blaise let go and danced all his tensions out. Then, leaving the two girls to the music, he circled the room to admire his handiwork.

Surrounded by admirers, Millicent Bulstrode was dancing well enough to shame a veela, her sturdy body transformed as it swayed and contorted to the music. Malfoy's goons Crabbe and Goyle had succumbed to the pull of the music, or perhaps to the strength of the vodka in the bottles they clutched. They were clumsily dancing with a circle of younger students. Further away, several of the upper year girls had joined the fire dancers and were learning to dance with the swinging toys, although their ropes ended in glow-sticks, rather than flame. Sensible choice, Blaise thought as he watched one learner smack herself in the head. Even Draco Malfoy was on the dance floor, a broad, natural grin on his face as he danced with Janie.

All in all the evening was a charming bit of cultural melding. If all went well, these kids would all be clamoring for another 'Muggle party' the next weekend. Feeling that Great-Uncle Albus would be proud of his efforts, Blaise went to help himself to another cup of mushroom tea.


End file.
